Take Cover
by Weathergirl
Summary: Bullets...bad weather...drama...heat...friction and of course, EO… ;)
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **

**A/N… New storm fic. It's a complete stand alone (has nothing to do with Storm Surge). **

**I wanted to write a story about SVU and tornadoes, and this is what transpired. If you liked Storm Surge, this is a very similar approach. First, this is SVU…**_**NOT Twister**_**. Elliot and Olivia are going to act as you would expect them to act around a storm. But there will be some intense moments! There will be bad weather and (bad) driving. There will be storms, reporters, storm chasers, destruction and everything you'd expect if you were watching a news report. Mostly just Mother Nature doing her thing while SVU does theirs. I'm very psyched about this one! Hope you like it!**

**I decided to start this one a little differently. The first chapter's really just a teaser to give you a glimpse on what's to come. So it's fast-forwarded a bit. Starting with chapter 2, you'll get the story from the beginning (it'll work back up through this point in time). Towns and counties are mostly made up, but there are occasional mentions of major cities to give you a point of reference. No specific time frame. Alex Cabot is ADA (although we'll not be in New York much for this). Anything up to season 12 (spoiler-wise) and Elliot doesn't leave. **

**Like every good storm, there's heat, friction, ('un-Stabler air'…teeheee!) and intensity that builds up before the big showdown. And by the way… E/O is going to be MUCH the same… ;)**

**Chapter 1**

**Axeville, Pennsylvania**

Elliot slams on the breaks, bringing the Crown Vic to a halt. The two front tires perch at the edge of the flooded road surface. "Sonofabitch!" He growls, smacking his fist against the dashboard. His angry glare fixed on the bumper of his speeding target as it fades into the horizon.

The large creek that runs along the left side of the road appears to have breached its barriers, spilling over onto the road surface.

Judging from the dip in the road ahead and currents flowing across the road way, it's probably too deep to cross in a sedan.

His eyes drift back to the road, and then to his rearview mirror, as he ponders where to turn around.

Behind the sedan, a downed tree blocks part of the road with one of its branches caught on a low-hanging power line. He had managed to steer around the bulk of it by driving partially through the soft, muddy shoulder.

But there's very little steering room now.

_Already been stuck once today. A second time would just be asinine,_ Elliot muses to himself.

Their perp, who happens to be driving a stolen Ford pick-up, has a pretty good lead on them. Might have plowed straight through or took some part of the shoulder. He really wasn't close enough to judge.

Two more cars approach from behind them. Each one stops and turns around when they notice the road conditions.

_Oh, what he wouldn't give to have something with a little four wheel drive right now. Or his SUV back… _

_But no…Kathy got that in the divorce. _

He examines the road once more.

Maybe he could have attempted it…?

Or…maybe the water would've been just high enough to flood the engine, leaving them stranded.

Like he needs _another reason_ for Olivia to be pissed off at him.

All he wants to do right now, is arrest this low-life, and get back to New York.

Right now, there's Olivia, himself, and a few local cops serving as backup until they get this guy. Feds may be brought in, in the next day or so.

The local cops are going to be stretched a little thin in a couple of hours.

_If not sooner… _Elliot scans the horizon in his rearview mirror, where a thick cluster of clouds emerges.

Media's reporting it as a 'potentially dangerous situation.'

_Widespread flooding. Hail. Dangerous lightning. Wind gusts to 60 mph. The possibility of a few strong tornadoes. _

And of course, his personal favorite… _Hazardous road conditions. _

Further out west, where the storms have since passed, Missouri and Illinois are under a state of emergency.

_Towns leveled. Roads impassable. Lots of injuries, fatalities. _

Indiana, Ohio, and parts of Western Pennsylvania—where they are currently—are now under the gun.

They've been skirting the edge of this storm system for the past few hours. Everything is to the south and west of them for the moment. But the storm continues moving closer.

Perp's probably hoping to wear a few of them out.

Elliot clenches his fists once more.

_Sonofabitch will be lucky if makes it to lock-up!_

He glances down at the radio. It's probably about time to check in with the others.

They had all split up back at junction 63, so maybe one of the locals is already on his tail.

His hand reaches for the radio, but Liv's covers it first. He withdraws his own quickly and releases a sigh.

"…This is Detective Benson with the NYPD… Baker? Sykes? Long? Tennyson? Any of you guys out there? We lost visual on the suspect. Last seen heading north on Highway 279…"

What makes this whole trip _much _worse…? _Them. _

They aren't speaking to each other. Hardly get along anymore.

The one thing they can both agree on is that they both want to catch this creep in the worst way.

The orders are to try and bring him in alive.

_No one said they wanted him conscious… _Elliot muses to himself.

They're tired. They'd been at this for a few hours.

No one expected things to turn out the way they did.

It's starting to get dark, they're close to the Ohio border, the weather's getting worse, and they _still_ don't have him.

This perp's no idiot, either.

But they know more about what they're up against with this guy, than anyone else—Liv especially.

After no response from any of the other responding officers, Elliot gets out of the car and slams the door. He has to do something. Too much pint-up frustration spent sitting inside that car.

_She fucking hates him!_ Especially after what happened earlier.

Then again…what does he do anymore that _doesn't_ piss her off?

When they're not fighting, they're not speaking to each other. He doesn't know which is worse.

Shit, sometimes it's like they're married. Kathy couldn't stand to be around him either.

When they get back to New York, things are going to change. Cragen's already made his mind up.

He'll be working with Munch, she'll go with Fin.

It'll be okay… _For a little while._ A few weeks at most, but no more than a couple months…

Well, he hopes.

They managed a separation once before, while she was working with that eco-terrorism group.

They've done just fine in the past, but things are different now.

She's changed. Already surpassed him in skills. Well on her way to lieutenant. Hell, maybe even Captain.

_She doesn't need him anymore._

He's got to fix this. Has to make things right between them again.

Whatever it takes.

He'll probably have to go to some boring 4-hour anger management seminar. A session or two with the shrink.

He hates it, but he'll deal with it.

He just wants things back to normal. He wants _'them'_ back.

Because in spite of how crazy they make each other, he doesn't want to do this job without _her._

He pushes up his jacket sleeves, eyes the downed tree in the road, then makes his way toward the sturdiest part of it.

They're in Axeville—a small farm town about 40 miles north of Pittsburgh. Not much along this stretch of highway.

He's not even sure where the nearest help would come from, if they couldn't get out.

The last thing he remembers seeing about a half mile back was a vacant lot, where only a McDonald's drive-thru sign remains. Right beside that, a boarded-up Amoco station.

He spots the place where the tree was split.

_A lightning strike? _he considers as he inspects it.

There's still the part of the branch that's caught on a power line. Too much brush in the way for him to see exactly how the line is caught.

And the ground, trees, pretty much everything around that area is soaked from the few storms that passed through earlier.

The only thing he sees that is safe to do is to try and move the bulk of it off to the side. He suspects he can probably do that without disturbing the part that's caught on the line.

The wind is starting to pick up again, so he's getting sprayed with the rain off of the trees.

As he struggles to get at the base of the tree, he hears her approaching.

"Elliot!"

"What?" He glances up, seeing her hair whip in every direction. Her sunglasses are perched on top of her head. She has to hold her sunglasses and some of her hair back, so she can see where she's going.

He wants to laugh, but doesn't. It's probably the only time today he's seen her face and she didn't look like she wanted to kill him. Only because she's distracted.

She stops, her hands rest on her hips.

His eyes continue to pour over her, stopping in places he knows he shouldn't…

_Strands of brown hair blowing in the wind. Dark denim jeans, a faded black short-sleeved tee that clings to her chest underneath her NYPD jacket. _

They've been through some downpours, road construction dust and mud, and could probably use a shower and a change of clothes.

_And she still looks fucking beautiful. _

"You're going to try and move this thing by yourself?" she poses, yelling mostly to be heard over the wind… _Or so he tells himself_.

"Yeah, what'd you expect?" he answers.

She shakes her head, opting not to respond. As she looks the tree over, an idea surfaces. "We have a tow rope in the trunk…_don't we?"_

"Yeah, I think so…why?" He walks over to where she stands and follows her gaze. At that angle, he sees how they can split part of the tree away from the main trunk without disturbing the wires. They can carry it in pieces if they have to. He'll have room to turn the car around. "Good thinking."

He goes to open the trunk of the car, then searches and then comes up with a sturdy white tow rope. He feeds it around the branch that they're trying to dislodge.

But trying to pull from that angle requires some effort, and the wind is working against him.

She watches him struggle with it. _Of course he won't ask for help, _she sighs.

When he pauses for a breath, she grabs one of the ends of the rope from his hand.

With the two of them working each end of the rope together, they manage to break it loose from the trunk a few minutes later. The rest is easily toted to the shoulder.

Elliot returns the tow rope, then wanders a few paces back over to her and looks at her appreciatively. "Thanks."

Her response is a slight nod.

They're both quiet for a moment. "You know Liv… I really _am_ sorry…"

He knows she wouldn't forgive him that easily. He was an ass to her. Said some pretty mean things. Questioned her judgment.

But he has to try. Has to start somewhere.

Her attention is suddenly drawn to the late afternoon/early evening sky, where the leading edge of the storm that has everyone worried, continues to creep closer to them.

Directly above their heads, layers of clouds fill the late afternoon sky in various shades of gray. To the right of that, there are these interesting-looking, billowing clouds. Sort of look like rows of tiny cotton balls. Odd, but still interesting.

In the clouds above her, she sees motion in some of them. Further toward the horizon, there's a low-lying layer of clouds. Above that is a stream of fiery red, orange and yellow hues where the sun still peaks over the horizon as it sets.

There's beauty to it. Very picturesque. To her, it looks like nothing more than a cloudy sunset.

Then again, impressions can be deceiving.

"…I'm sorry for what I said…" Elliot continues his apology. "I didn't mean—"

"Elliot…" she halts him, turning her attention back toward her partner. She opens her mouth to say something, but doesn't. Shaking her head hopelessly, she turns and wanders back toward the sedan.

"Liv!" he calls after her. An exasperated sigh escapes his lips and he follows her to the passenger side of the car. "Please, Liv…"

Olivia turns around and stops short of running into him. She pauses for a moment, opting not to put any more energy into fighting with him. Instead she replies, "It's been a long day. Let's try to reach one of the guys on their cell phone, and if not, then we'll—"

The next strong gust of wind interrupts her, blasting them with rain and pieces of gravel.

They cover their faces and hurry into the sedan.

Once seated, they crane their necks toward the back windshield, unable to see much except for the sprays of rain.

The last bit of daylight is starting to slip away.

Finally, they spot the source of the gravel—a large pile off the shoulder of the road that was left behind by some construction crew.

The entire mound is getting sheared apart from the wind. Fragments of rock and gravel are being swept up in the open air and hurled toward the car.

"Dammit!" Elliot mutters as the pelts become increasingly more forceful. "Well, thank God for bullet proof glass," he vocalizes, struggling to get the car turned around amidst the chaos outside.

Olivia grabs for the radio, then sets it back down quickly a second later when the alert tones begin to sound through the speakers. She turns up the volume to hear the report over the ruckus outside.

"…_*screech*…*screech*…*screech*…*long tone*_

"_The National Weather Service has issued a Tornado Watch for the following counties in Pennsylvania… Lantern, Cold Trail and Rider… And in Ohio…Flood, Forest, Gray, Crow, and Peak counties…effective until 11pm Eastern Daylight Time._

"_This is an Potentially Dangerous Situation. Strong tornadoes, hail up to golf ball size, wind gusts in excess of 60 miles per hour and dangerous lightning are possible for storms that form in, and close to the watch area. _

_Remember that a tornado watch means that severe thunderstorms are capable of producing tornadoes, large hail, damaging winds, deadly lightning and heavy rain, with little or no advanced warning. Keep alert for threatening weather conditions and be ready to move to a storm shelter immediately…" _

_**TBC…**_

**A/N… Please let me know what you think! I've got more ready to post!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N… Here's where it all begins… **

_**~2 days earlier~**_

**Scurry, PA**

From the passenger seat, Olivia eyes the highway exit sign as the Crown Victoria zooms past it going 74 mph. She glares at her partner. "Dammit, El, I told you I had to stop about 20 miles back…"

Zoned out in his driving, Elliot suddenly snaps alert. "Sorry, Liv. My mind was elsewhere."

She rolls her eyes as she sees the next highway sign that bears the words; _Next exit, 22 miles._

"Should be another one shortly," he replies yawning, clearly missing the sign.

Olivia sighs her disapproval.

"You know, if you drank less water…" he taunts her, chuckling lightly.

"It's 90 degrees and the AC is broken," she argues. She's knows she's very irritable, but it's too damn hot in that car.

He gives a light shrug and glances in her direction, the corner of his mouth lifts in a slight smirk. "And you haven't melted yet…"

She settles back in her seat.

"Relax, Liv, I'll grab the next rest stop."

If it wasn't for the heat and her discomfort, she could sleep through this road trip.

Just under 2 hours by her calculations, until they reach the motel. Not that she used to feel this way about road trips with her partner.

More than 10 years after the start of the longest relationship she's ever had with a man, something changed.

Somewhere inside of her, she still cares deeply for him.

But caring requires a lot more patience these days, and maybe she's losing that along with everything else that has gone out the window in their partnership.

It all started to turn bad about eight months ago. Just before his divorce from Kathy.

He has gotten edgier, moodier. Definitely harder to work with.

Maybe he's lonely. Maybe he misses his kids. Maybe he wants to go back home and forget that the damned papers were ever signed in the first place. She didn't know.

Obviously, it would be an adjustment. Getting his life back in order would take time.

She knows he's tormented himself over what it meant for the kids. Or what it said about him, as a father and a husband.

But given everything she knows of the situation, it seemed like Elliot and Kathy were in full agreement. It was time for them both to move on.

Kathy has been seeing some guy who teaches part-time at Hudson.

Elliot goes out from time to time, but she doesn't know all of the particulars. It's hard to schedule much else when work is, and always will be, his top priority.

She gazes out the window. They're on their way to Tower, Pennsylvania to testify in the State vs. Clayton Oldbridge. He's charged in the rape and murder of Holly Morrison.

If he's found guilty of Holly's murder, they'll take him back to New York to await trial for the rape and murder of Hudson University students, Alicia Caren and Jayne LaSalle, and for the murder of Leslie Sill—Jayne's roommate.

All four young women were college students with bright futures ahead…

_Until they met Clay._

**_x x_**

Around mid-afternoon, Elliot pulls into the parking lot of the Travel Lodge.

Olivia gets out of the car, retrieves her luggage and trudges tiredly toward the motel lobby. He grabs his bag, secures the car and follows her.

A clerk steps up and greets them when they approach the front desk.

Just as they enter, a man in a suit who is seated in one of the lobby guest chairs glances up.

He folds the newspaper in his hand and lays it on the chair beside him, maintaining his focus on the two detectives.

His eyes are instantly drawn to the woman.

Olivia realizes she's being watched after a minute, but continues answering the clerk's routine questions. Feeling a little uncomfortable, she follows her usual protocol and casually takes in the man's appearance and behavior.

Tall, slender, probably late 40s to early 50s. Dark brown hair with just a hint of gray at the temples.

Generally attractive—especially in the eyes.

He's uncomfortable and a little nervous. Aside from the humidity, he's probably sleep-deprived. Maybe a little over-caffeinated.

_Won't stop staring. _

He's dressed a bit too formally to be a reporter.

He's likely pegged them as cops, which means he could be a cop himself. Could be a federal agent too.

Finally the man gets up from the vinyl chair and begins walking toward them, his charcoal pin-striped suit sticking to him uncomfortably from the humidity.

"Detective Olivia Benson?" he asks for clarity. The scent of aftershave, cologne, or whatever he has on, wafts in her direction.

She turns from the counter and acknowledges him with a polite nod. Still has no idea who this guy is, or why he knows her name.

Elliot turns his attention from the vehicle information section of the registration form, and eyes the man suspiciously.

He extends his hand to shake hers, smiling cordially. "Geoffrey Stout-McCray—attorney for Mr. Clayton Oldbridge."

She vaguely remembers hearing that the defendant, or some member of defendant's family, had hired a new defense attorney for the trial. There had been a public defender up until this time.

She accepts his hand and shakes it. "Yes, counselor. What can we do for you?"

"My client would like to speak with you privately, Detective Benson," he explains.

"What's this about?" Elliot interjects with a hasty glare. Over four hours on the road in a car with no AC and a partner who hates him, and he's ready for a shower, a drink, a meal and then a nap—and that's pretty much the complete list. An overheated, pretentious defense attorney waiting at his motel is about as far removed from that list, as a flat tire on the Garden State Parkway during rush hour.

The counselor's eyes shift over to Elliot briefly, before returning to hers. "Better let my client tell you himself."

Elliot steps back from the counter and addresses the counselor irritably. "What does he want with my partner? The trial starts tomorrow." He points a finger at the counselor and lowers his voice, "Your client is going down for Holly's murder, and the three back in New York. State's going to put a needle in his arm. Ain't a hell of a lot he can say to Detective Benson at this point!"

The counselor's hazel eyes drift once more toward Elliot. There's little more than a polite nod to her angry counterpart before he resumes eye contact with her. "Please… It's important."

"Can you give me anything?" she requests.

"He's not guilty. I think it might have been a set-up—"

Elliot chucks feebly. "Oh, please... Liv, better make sure we have extra tissues in court for this beautiful, heart-wrenching story."

Elliot may be aloof and hasty, but he's right. Facts are facts. Clay is linked to all of the victims. He has no solid alibi for the nights of those attacks, his DNA is at each of the crime scenes, his hunting knife was used as the murder weapon and there are emails and testimony about his history of aggression and stalking.

Not to even mention the restraining order by one of his victims.

_The guy is guilty, period._

She shakes her head uncertainly. "I don't know, counselor…"

"Trust me, you'll want to hear this." He retrieves a business card and hands it to her.

Elliot steps between them, shaking his head. "She's not going to listen to one more thing that guilty piece of crap has to say!"

After Elliot tosses one last nasty glare at the attorney, he turns his back and resumes filling out the check-in form.

The attorney extends the card to her again, leans closer, and lowering his voice he adds, "My cell phone number is on the back. Please call me when you get settled in."

Olivia takes the card and shoves it into her pocket.

**_x x_**

A little over an hour later, a gold Nissan Altima pulls up to the curb in front of the motel. Olivia opens the door and gets in.

"Thanks again for coming, Detective."

"You're welcome. And it's Olivia," she amends, fastening her seat belt. The car pulls away from the curb and moments later they're on the expressway.

"Okay, Olivia…" he smiles warmly. "And you can call me Geoff. This won't take up too much of your time."

"Like I said over the phone…I can't make any promises, but I'll listen," Olivia responds. She's seen her share of last minute pleas from the defense. She's not expecting things to turn around.

"Hey, that's all I can ask."

Geoff had called both DA's to request the meeting with the detective—they agreed. The ADAs were notified next. He'll follow up with the local ADA, Kirk Dunhurst, when they're done.

Olivia had called Alex Cabot, more as a friendly gesture, and let her know that she agreed to the meeting. She promised Alex she'd call her back that night, regardless of the outcome.

Then just before leaving, she shoves a note under Elliot's motel room door explaining her plans. She could have been more formal, but what's the point? Standing outside his motel room, she could hear the water running. It sounded like he was in the shower. A note is fair, and saves her from another round of his protests.

_If nothing pans out, what's the big deal anyway? _

But if it has any sort of impact, she'll bring him up to speed.

She admits to being a little bit curious. There are some sketchy details about the events that occurred those nights and anything she finds out might help to give the families some closure.

According to the psychological reports, Clay sometimes has trouble remembering events. It's some sort of psychologically-linked trauma stemming from his aggression. It doesn't make him any less accountable for his actions, however it does make corroborating his story or an admission of guilt a little difficult.

Geoff glances over in the direction of the detective. He's surprised that she agreed to come at all. He had read in the court reports about the way Clay attacked her and Detective Stabler during his arrest. Detective Stabler barely has to enter a room and Clay's instantly combative.

To be fair, it's not always the detective's fault. Clay has his own set of issues.

He's read enough about Detective Benson to know that she's probably his best choice.

If Clay offers her the same information as he did this morning, it should be enough to get the investigation re-opened.

_It's the eleventh hour. Really can't afford not to try._

Journey's, _"Girl Can't Help It,"_ plays quietly over Geoff's car stereo.

"That partner of yours… Kind of a hot-head," he remarks, shaking his head. "Not that I haven't seen worse."

She smiles. "He just wants justice. We both do."

"And so do I," he replies eagerly. "Look…I know this seems like a desperate request at this late hour…but there's a bit more to Clay's story. He says he's ready to talk about it. It's all going to have to come out to convince a jury that he's innocent, and he's been reluctant to fill in some of the gaps. So I've really got my work cut-out for me, _even if_ this meeting goes well."

"You _really_ believe he's innocent?"

"Yes," he answers sincerely. "I really do."

The conversation soon drifts away from the case, toward other topics ranging from concerts and shows they've seen, to various types of music. Geoff's a really nice guy. Not like most of the defense attorney's she's met. She finds herself enjoying the conversation and company.

His eyes linger in her direction as they sit at a traffic light two blocks from the main entrance to the prison. "Umm… say, when we finish, do you think you might like to have a drink with me?" he poses, not attempting to hide his interest.

She turns her head and offers a shy smile back.

First attractive guy to flirt with her in months…_ Figures it would happen to be a defense attorney from out of state._

"Thanks, but I'd better not. I need to grab a bite to eat and wind down a bit from the trip."

He pulls into the visitors lot at the Sheldon Arc Correctional Facility, parks the car and shuts the engine off. "Well…that works out perfectly. I haven't eaten either. So why don't we make it dinner instead?" he proposes. "My treat. And I promise, no more case talk after we're done here."

He seems nice. But the day's gone on long enough.

"Thanks, Geoff. Maybe some other time, okay?"

"Sure. But answer me this. Why on earth is a woman as gorgeous as you, _single?"_ he asks, gesturing to her empty left hand.

She shrugs. "Job hazard. You know the drill."

He nods. "Even harder with that partner of yours around, _isn't it_? Probably scares most of the guys off."

She blushes a little. "What makes you say that?"

"Job hazard…" he teases back, borrowing her words. "You could say I've defended a lot of those jealous types… Too bad it doesn't serve as legitimate grounds for an insanity defense," he says, chuckling to himself. "Sure would make my job easier."

"What do you mean…_jealous types_?"

"He's jealous of anyone who comes within 20 feet of you."

"Elliot's _not_…jealous."

"Oh he's _very_ jealous! Body language says it all. He doesn't want anyone near you. Probably be pissed as hell if he hears that you're out with me. A defense attorney's only a tiny step up from criminal in his world."

"You don't know him."

"Yes, but I've seen enough. Classic male jealousy. He did everything short of publicly marking his territory back in that motel lobby. He's a very loyal partner, and from what I've read, a damn fine cop. But he has anger issues. He's difficult to work with. You've been with him longer than any of the other partners he's had, which says a lot about your partnership and loyalty to each other…" He pauses to watch her expression. "And he'd never let anyone hurt you."

"Yes, he can be loyal," she agrees, reflecting back on their earlier days when they used to be the best of friends.

"He's probably afraid to admit that he's in love with you," Geoff adds.

She shakes her head, laughing like it's the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard.

They used to be _'too close.'_ Now they're just _'too close to killing each other_.'

"You're crazy!"

"Yes… But I'm not wrong," he responds smugly. "Come on, let's go inside."

They get out of the car and approach the visitors entrance. After the formal sign-in and ID check, they're escorted to a conference room.

**_x x_**

Over an hour later, they're at an impasse.

Clay had talked in circles about things they already had on the record. Clearly he's nervous. Geoff hinted that this could take some time.

Thinking back to the day of the arrest, she wondered why Clay would accept having her there, much less request her presence.

_Or had he…?_

_Maybe this was all Geoff's idea? _

At the very least, Clay is calm and not acting offensively compared to her other encounters with him.

In spite of any impressions Geoff may have had about his client's innocence or willingness to share critical information for the defense, nothing pans out.

Moments later, they exit the building heading for Geoff's car.

Geoff would have to stick with defending Clay's character and attacking some of the holes in the state's case, and hope that convinces the jury.

Olivia had gone as she promised. There's nothing left to do except let things take their course.

So Clay's fate was split between the outcome of this trial, and his trial in New York.

She glances over to her right—the sight of the weary defense attorney walking beside her with slumped shoulders and a pensive expression evokes some sympathy.

"Well, okay…if you promise no shop talk…"

He stirs out of his momentary fog. "Wh-what was that?"

"If your offer still stands, I'm famished. Where can we get a good bite to eat?"

"Oh…um… There's a great Indian restaurant that's a few miles up the street," he replies, his mood suddenly lifting and smile returning. "I try to eat here whenever I'm in town. Although I've never been impressed with their wines or alcohol selection, the food is fantastic."

"Let's go."

**_x x_**

They enjoy a leisurely dinner. Geoff is right about the food—everything is delicious. The restaurant is cozy and very relaxed.

Conversations span different topics, ranging from restaurants they'd recommend, to places they'd like to visit someday, to what led them to their choice of profession.

Geoff lives and works in the Pittsburgh metro area, which is also where most of Clay's family is from. He grew up in that area and had followed in his father's footsteps with the law profession, except that his dad worked with insurance companies and Geoff wanted something more enticing. He got his degree in psychology before going into law and says that it's served him well.

He's a genuinely good guy. He volunteers at a kids softball camp during the summer when he's not too busy. He's very personable. Takes things to heart. Almost the polar opposite of your typical lawyer. But he's doing what he loves. The law fascinates him.

Olivia talks a little about her past and her decision to go into law enforcement.

They talk, laugh and share stories like old friends for the next two hours.

At a little before 9:00pm, Geoff drops her back at the motel. He still wants to do some prepping on his opening remarks before tomorrow.

Olivia goes to her room and returns the call to Alex Cabot as promised.

They chat for a while, Olivia filling her in a little on Geoff.

Alex seems to enjoy picking at her about her _'_date' with the defense attorney.

Although she'd hardly call it a date, she did have a really nice time.

She ends the conversation, promising to call her with updates as the trial progresses.

She'll meet and talk to ADA Dunhurst in the morning before court.

Geoff will have called and updated him already. Nothing new to report anyway.

After that, she's wide awake. _A drink would definitely hit the spot right now_, she thinks to herself, as she turns on the TV and flips through some of the channels.

She thought she remembered seeing something on the corner near this motel that might be a bar.

She turns off the TV and considers going to the front desk to ask about it, when there's a knock at the door.

She sets the remote on the bed, and goes to answer it.

She glances through the peep hole, then rolls her eyes and sighs.

_Just like friggin' clockwork…_

She opens it, and there stands Elliot. Arms folded, glaring angrily at her. "What the hell is your problem?"

**TBC…**

**A/N… Tower, PA is a fictitious town located around State College to Altoona, PA. I'm not too familiar with that area or the landmarks, but the region fits for the purposes of this story. The prison name is also made up. **

******Don't worry about E/O... They'll get it figured out. ;)**

**More to come! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N…Big thanks to all my reviewers, supporters, story followers, and favoriters! Wish I could respond to you guest reviewers individually, but please know that I really do appreciate it! **

**EO is still underway. I've got this story mapped out in my head. I know it's hard to see the outcome of EO when they're arguing, but you can't miss the way they're drawn to each other. I'll just let you all read this chapter and see for yourselves. ;) **

**Quick note of thanks to JamiW for being my legal consultant/sounding board.**

* * *

Elliot barges into her motel room in a mad huff and continues, "You went to interview a suspect about a case _without _the ADA present?What the hell were you thinking?"

"Are you trying to tell me that I don't know how to do my job? Screw you, Elliot!"

"You don't even know this guy! Do you have any idea what kind of shit he's cooked up?"

Her grip on the door knob tightens. "Get out!"

"What the hell was so important that he dragged you out to Sheldon Arc?" he charges, that intensity looming in his eyes.

"_NOTHING!_ Nothing was said that you'd need to worry about! Now get the hell out of my motel room!"

He wanders back toward her, arms folded, smug grin. "What then? You two leave and go back to his place? Spend a couple hours in his bed? Geez, Liv…._a defense attorney?_ I know you've hit a dry spell lately, but I thought you had better taste—"

"I said…_GET OUT!"_

"Fine!" Elliot responds, then storms out.

She slams the door behind him.

Funny, but he didn't used to get her _this_ angry.

Sure, Elliot's changed since his divorce. But so has her resolve for dealing with any of it. She's now at the point where she just has to cut him off.

_They've been together too long. They know exactly how to hurt each other._

Olivia grabs her phone, wallet and room key, and heads out.

A drink is _definitely_ in order!

**x x**

Moments later, she's at the front desk. The night clerk directs her to the nearest bar, which happens to be the one she saw at the corner. She thanks him and heads there promptly. It's a short walk, and the slightly cooler night air is a drastic improvement from the day's humidity.

The place is not as bad on the inside as it appears outside. Definitely a locals joint, because anyone else would have passed it by in a heartbeat.

Six pool tables are set up in the center of the place. Pinball machines and a jukebox sit in one corner. Some bar tables and chairs are set up on either side of the pool tables. The bar itself forms an L-shape, running along the back wall and an adjacent wall. Mirror paneling behind the bar makes the place look bigger.

Besides her, there are about a dozen customers. Probably as busy as it gets for a week night.

Four of the customers are seated at the bar. There's a young couple who can't seem to keep their hands off of each other, a truck driver chatting on his cell phone, and a lady sitting alone sipping on a beer. Her head keeps turning toward the door whenever it opens, so she's probably expecting someone.

Three of the pool tables are occupied with the rest of the bar patrons—about eight to ten college students who seem to be there together to blow off a little steam.

She grabs a seat at the bar, away from most of the others, and orders a drink.

The bartender smiles when he sees her, making polite chit-chat as he fills her drink. Then he resumes re-shelving the highball glasses.

He occasionally changes channels on one of the big screen TVs, trying to decide between a re-televised basketball game and a few old movies.

Bruce Springsteen's _'I'm on fire'_ plays over the stereo speakers.

The place is just mellow enough, and it's exactly what she needs.

Her thoughts drift back to Geoff, Clay and the meeting earlier.

Clay's story is basically that he was involved with each of the three of the women—Alicia, Jayne and Holly—at different times. Leslie—the fourth victim who was murdered but not raped—had been Jayne's roommate. It appears that she came to her roommate's aid, and he killed her to keep her quiet.

Clay, of course, denies having been anywhere near them on the nights in question.

And he has no recollection of his hunting knife ever going missing.

The psychological reports say that Clay has attachment and anger issues. He has all the right intentions, but struggles with relationships. No formal diagnosis.

According to the friends and family members of these victims, when his behavior turned more possessive and threatening, the young women cut their ties and began to avoid him.

With Holly, it had been more serious.

When he began stalking her, she went as far as to change schools, which brought her out to State College.

With her family in this area, the transition made sense.

Soon after, Clay was arrested and charged with 2 counts of assault on Holly and Jayne. As ordered by the court, Clay began counseling.

He says he was getting his life back together.

_Problem is_, Holly wanted nothing more to do with him.

He was relentless and kept calling and showing up everywhere she was. He even threatened her friends and family for information about her. She finally filed a restraining order.

It makes a strong case for Clay as the perp.

Olivia pushes her empty glass back contemplating a refill, while the bartender fills two pitchers of beer for the college crowd.

As she waits for the bartender to wander over to her side of the bar, a customer walks in and sits down on the next barstool over from hers.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees who it is and sighs.

She could use another drink and a few more moments alone with her thoughts. But instead, she decides to pay her tab and get the hell away from him before this turns into another pissing match.

She promised Cragen, she promised herself… _This will not end ugly_.

The bartender returns, but goes to Elliot first.

"A Scotch on the rocks, and…umm…bring her a refill too, please," he requests, gesturing toward Olivia and taking out his debit card.

"That's not necessary…" she tells the bartender, removing enough cash to cover her first drink and tip as she gets up from the barstool. "I'm leaving."

"No, Liv. Stay," he tells her. "Bring her a refill," he instructions the bartender. He accepts the debit card, nods and walks away.

She turns toward him wearily, "Elliot…"

"Liv, please hear me out."

"Why?"

Elliot pulls some papers out of his back pocket—about 6 pages stapled and folded together. He unfolds them and hands her them to her.

"What is this?" she asks, accepting the papers but maintaining a suspicious gaze at Elliot.

"A little more information about your friend, Geoffrey," he replies. "It seems he's not got the best track record—"

"Go to hell!" Olivia hisses, tossing the papers back at him. They hit the bar top, but slide off and fall to the floor by Elliot's feet. He bends down and grabs them up just as she starts toward the door at a hurried pace.

"He had his law license suspended for six months!" he announces when she's about ten to fifteen feet away. He raises his voice to be heard over the music and the rowdy college crowd, who are playfully attacking and chasing each other around the tables with pool sticks.

Olivia stops, turns, and wanders back toward him curiously. "Suspended for _what_?"

"Unethical conduct," Elliot states. "Almost two years ago. He's on shaky ground at his firm, Liv. Probably desperate to win this case so he can hold onto his job. Might say or do anything at this point. Just thought I should warn you." He hands the papers over to her again. "Go ahead. Read it for yourself."

Her eyes drift between Elliot and the papers hesitantly for a couple seconds. Finally, she takes them.

The top page has an article about the suspension. She scans through enough to get the gist of it. Sounds like he's one of those lawyers who doesn't do things conventionally. Not a lot of details about the cases or anything added from Geoff's perspective, however.

Then she begins flipping through the other pages. Elliot had taken the time to track down some ABA sources mentioning his win/loss case record. Looks pretty good up until recently. At dinner, she remembers him saying how much he hated the corporate criminal negligence cases, which the new managing partners are so fond of. The last pages have two more articles about his standing at the law firm—Gwynn, Roosevelt and McGuire.

Elliot's right, Geoff's on shaky ground. Probably not a topic he would bring up over dinner.

The bartender returns with her refill and Elliot's drink.

She folds the papers and hands them back to him. Then she sits back down on the barstool and takes a sip of the drink he bought for her.

"Talk to me, Liv… What happened at Sheldon Arc today?" he asks earnestly.

She sighs, shoulders slumping forward in defeat. "Nothing. It was more of the same. Clay saying how much he loved the girls and that he'd never hurt them," she answers, wanting to trust her own opinion of Geoff.

Maybe Geoff has his own approach and it's come back to bite him the ass once or twice. She knows a few people in the NYPD and in the DA's office who are like that.

He did mention that he butts heads with the new managing partners a lot. Maybe he doesn't get along well with the people in authority…

Olivia laughs to herself. _Yeah, she knows a few people like that, too!_

She hasn't even seen him in court yet, although she did get to watch him interacting with Clay and he shows a lot of compassion. That's hard to say of most defense attorneys.

Most attorneys, period.

She doesn't consider herself a poor judge of character, either.

_Not in this business. Not after what she's seen._

Her eyes lazily follow the reflected lights in the mirror panels behind the bar, as they pick up the flickering images from one of the big screen TVs.

Elliot takes a sip of his drink, then lowers the glass. "So what does your gut say?"

"Something's off… But Clay was reluctant to talk about it," Olivia remarks. "According to Geoff, Clay has more to say about some events that occurred before these attacks. He thinks it sheds reasonable doubt on this case."

"Something Geoff _'actually heard'_ his client say?" Elliot poses for clarity.

"Don't know how much he heard, El. Clay clammed up when I got there. And Geoff's not going to break attorney/client privilege."

Elliot sighs. "So, which is it this time? Is Clay forgetful or just _confused_?" he asks curtly. "Sounds to me like Geoff's putting words in his client's mouth to win a case."

"Geoff never pushed or led him," she argues back.

"Do _you_ believe he's innocent?"

"I don't know... But I don't think Geoff is being dishonest," she responds assuredly.

Elliot smirks. "You really like this guy, huh?"

"He's a nice guy. Give him a chance."

"He seems to like you a lot, too. Guess he can't be that bad," Elliot adds, grinning.

She turns to face him. "So he's made some mistakes on the job…? _So what?_ The system isn't perfect, El. How many times have you or I caught hell for following our own hunches? Same thing probably happened to Geoff. Maybe he doesn't have someone at his firm to take up for him like we have Cragen?"

He rests his arms on the bar. "Yes, but Clay's facing the death penalty. If there's something to spill that could save his life, why wouldn't he?"

"Maybe he's scared?"

"Of _what?_ What could be worse than a guilty verdict in a capital crime?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out. Could be a co-conspirator. Could be that someone else carried out the murders… Not like we haven't seen our share of cases go in that direction."

"My point is…Clay is the only one on trial. He's got to come up with a better defense…or_…"_

"Or…what?"

"Or get a better defense attorney…?" he comments with a smirk.

She rolls her eyes and smirks.

"I'm just teasing. So how was the big date with the defense attorney?" he asks smugly.

She eyes him quizzically. "Where did you get the idea that we had a date?"

"I spoke to Alex after you did. But I already figured out you were having dinner."

She nods. "_Yes_, we did have dinner. _No_, it wasn't a date. Alex is just messing with me. Great Indian restaurant over by Sheldon Arc, by the way. Beer and wine selection isn't great, but the Kofta is to die for," she makes a sigh of approval.

"Better than Tamarind's?"

"You know…" She nods slowly as she considers it. "It might _actually_ be."

"We'll have to hit it for lunch sometime then."

"Sure," she agrees.

He nudges her arm lightly, then lifts his glass to hers. "Cheers."

"Cheers."

She's enjoying this. Their first conversation in a while—and they do occasionally have these moments—where things between them are comfortable. Friendly.

She misses this. Misses him. Misses their friendship and banter. She wishes moments like these would last, but she's already learned to stop expecting that they will.

_Doesn't mean that she won't still try. _

"So…how about another round?" she poses, lifting her empty glass.

"Sure." He glances behind him and spots an open pool table. "You up for a game?"

"You in the mood to lose, Stabler?" she teases.

"_Against you…?_ Always," he replies grinning, and downs the rest of his drink.

"You're on."

Blue Oyster Cult's _'Burning for you'_ starts to play, as Olivia walks toward the open pool table and Elliot motions to the bartender for refills.

The bartender fills the order, then picks up the remote control to search for something else on the TV.

He leaves it on the news and resumes clearing a few empty glasses from the tables.

The news anchor's words appear as captions on the screen…

"…_More to come on the Evening Edition. We'll bring you the latest on the climate change bill that just passed in the Senate, and on that intense game last night at Michigan State that people are still talking about. _

_But coming up next… The Midwest braces for a severe weather outbreak. We'll give you the latest on this dangerous developing storm system, which areas are at risk, and what it could mean for our weather over the next few days. Stay tuned…" _

**TBC… **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N… :- ( *sighs* I had chosen the Midwest as the battleground because it works for this story. But I hate the timing of this chapter… You'll find out why when you get to that part. I try to work ahead (I'm on chapter 8, aside from minor edits on other chapters) so this one was written months ago and there's too much happening in the next three chapters to cover the part here any differently. So I just left it alone. Anyway, my heart goes out to those affected by last week's storms. **

_**x x**_

"Next case, the people v. Clayton Matthew Oldbridge. All rise. Court is now in session. The Honorable Judge Melvin B. Carter now presiding."

"You may be seated," Judge Carter says, taking his seat on the bench. He puts on a pair of reading glasses, then lifts his head up just enough to make eye contact with the attorneys. "Please proceed."

"Yes, your honor. ADA Kirk Dunhurst for the State."

"Good morning, your honor. Geoffrey Stout-McCray, attorney for Mr. Oldbridge."

"Thank you, counselors. You may begin opening remarks."

_**x**_

Olivia listens, but finds herself struggling to stay focused as both attorneys deliver their opening statements.

She's tired. Hadn't sleep very much.

She and Elliot played a few games of pool, then left the bar just as it was closing.

Actually had a really good time.

But once she's alone in her motel room, her mind resumes trying to piece everything together.

_Is Geoff right about Clay? Or is he just out to win a case?_

_And if Geoff's right, what the hell is Clay so hesitant to say?_

She makes one last phone call that night, and it's to her Captain.

_As usual_, she apologizes for waking him.

_And as usual_, he tells her to quit apologizing.

She brings him up to speed on everything, hoping he'll see something she missed and offer some suggestions so she could put some of this to rest.

Maybe even fall asleep.

"_Well, you know this business, Olivia. We aim for the truth, but often find ourselves in a world of gray,"_ he tells her. _"You did the best you could. Now get some sleep."_

_**x**_

Olivia's the first person to take the stand. It's mostly to testify about the day of the arrest and Clay's behavior as he's being detained. She keeps her responses complete, but brief. She doesn't want to be up there any longer than necessary.

ADA Dunhurst finishes his questions and takes his seat.

"Any questions for this witness, Mr. McCray?"

"No, your honor," he responds, quickly glancing up from his writing tablet.

"The witness is excused."

Elliot takes the stand next.

Geoff redirects on a few questions. It's only to clear up a couple of details about Clay's conduct during the arrest. Maybe he's hoping it'll appear as though Clay was caught off-guard and scared.

She's not even sure how much the day of his arrest matters anymore. It's hardly needed to prove the people's case… _Not compared to the rest of the evidence._

Kirk concludes his list of witnesses by that afternoon, Geoff finishes up with his first witness, Clay's therapist, and court adjourns for the day.

Olivia sighs, watching Clay leave the courtroom in handcuffs and leg irons.

She can't help but think about Geoff, Clay, and whatever prompted the meeting yesterday.

But as long as Clay refuses to talk, there's not much else she can do.

_Somehow, that fact isn't sitting too well with her._

She exits, and then waits for Elliot to surface from the crowd exiting the courthouse. Probably stopped to talk to Kirk Dunhurst.

The drain of the day and lack of sleep is starting to take hold. The weather is still uncomfortably hot and humid.

Earlier that day, she had passed on having lunch at an Italian restaurant with Elliot and Kirk. She didn't have much of an appetite, and really wasn't in the mood to revisit the case from the state's perspective. Instead, she grabs a chicken salad sandwich at a deli and mostly picks at it while she catches up with Alex Cabot, and then later with her Captain, by phone.

When she finishes her conversation with Cragen, he relays a message for her to call Munch on his cell. She does this next.

She and Munch had worked a case together that had recently wrapped up. She gave her testimony, but couldn't stay for the closing arguments and the verdict because she and Elliot had to leave for Pennsylvania. Munch had gone to hear the verdict, which was given that morning.

When she does reach Munch on his cell, he spends the first few minutes complaining about the mayor's plans for expanding the subway. She listens with a grin, missing her city, her cohorts and her home turf in that instant. Then finally, he relays the outcome of the case. Much to their relief, it's a guilty verdict.

_At least she can feel good about that outcome._

As she waits for Elliot outside the courthouse, she hears her name being called.

"Hi Olivia." She turns to her right and finds Geoff standing there. "Wondered if you wanted to go to dinner with me? I could use some company and…umm…maybe some cheering up as well," he adds, catching her eye and offering a humble smile.

Elliot approaches a second or two later. He pretends not to notice Geoff standing there with her. "Hey, Liv, want to go grab a bite to eat? Dunhurst gave me a couple of suggestions for sushi restaurants. Thought we could check one of those places out."

While standing there, an uncomfortable warmth flushes through her. "You know what guys…I think…I want to go back to the motel."

"You okay?" Elliot asks, starting to pick up on the cues in her expression.

"I'm feeling a little light-headed," she explains.

Geoff returns the same concern. "It's probably the heat. Do you need some water? I'm sure I can find some bottled water for you pretty quickly."

"Thanks, Geoff. But I just need to go back and lie down."

"Well, I can take you back," he offers.

"I've got this, counselor," Elliot asserts. "We'll see you in the morning. Come on, Liv." He settles his hand on the small of her back, and they start for the parking garage.

"Good night," she tells Geoff.

"Good night." Geoff shoves his hands into his pockets and watches the detectives depart.

_**x**_

A few minutes after the detectives, Geoff leaves the courthouse heading for the parking garage.

Moments later, he's back at his car. He checks his phone, finding a new message from his law clerk, Brian.

"Well, that definitely helps," he says aloud as he reads it.

After a few more phone calls, he decides that the hour and a half drive back to his Pittsburgh condo isn't worth it. And besides that, he's got some additional prep work to do now. Might as well find a hotel with a fax machine and get to work.

He stops at a sub shop for a bite to eat, then makes a reservation at a hotel in town. Next, he calls Brian again and gives him the fax number at the hotel. He needs some documents sent over so he can review them before court tomorrow. One or two may be emitted into evidence. Moments later, Geoff receives the faxes at the front desk and then heads for his hotel room.

He spends another hour making notes and revising his questions, then makes a quick phone call to Dunhurst to update him on the new evidence and on the witness he is adding to his list.

He loosens his tie, lays back on the bed and gazes up at the ceiling, one of the faxes from Brian is still clutched in his hand.

This is definitely an important piece of evidence… But it's still not enough.

For a couple minutes, he debates what to do next. Then finally, he gets out of bed, grabs his keys, phone and suit jacket and heads out.

On the way to his next destination, he stops at a convenience store. He pours himself up a cup of coffee, grabs a lid and heads for the counter.

"Anything else for you, sir?" the clerk asks him.

"Oh…yes, almost forgot…" Geoff glances around the store and spots the refrigerated section. "…I need a bottle of Dr. Pepper." He walks over, grabs one of the 20-ounce bottles and returns to the counter to pay for both items.

Twenty minutes later, he pulls up at the Sheldon Arc Correctional Facility.

"Good evening, Mr. McCray," the guard greets him. "Working late again, huh?"

"Yeah, you know… I think I actually do my best work after court," Geoff tells the guard with a shy smile, as he signs in and receives his visitor's badge.

"I'll have the officer bring Mr. Oldbridge to the conference room."

"Thanks."

Moments later, he's escorted to a conference room, and Clay is brought in by another guard.

"Hi Clayton," Geoff greets his client with a smile.

"Geoff! How's it going, man?" Clay offers a relaxed, friendly smile back. He genuinely likes Geoff. Sometimes, they'll finish up court business and Geoff will stick around for a little while just to talk.

And it's very relaxed. Just two guys shooting the breeze. Topics are usually sports, random life stories or jokes. Geoff appreciates the chance to wind down at the end of the day, and Clay appreciates the company.

Clay's only other visitors have been his father—who is usually there to express his disappointment in Clay, or his younger brother—who really doesn't have a lot of time because of school. His mother is still nervous about seeing her son behind bars.

Geoff reaches over and gives Clay a friendly pat on the arm, and they sit down at the table.

The guard leaves, and Geoff hands him the bottle of Dr. Pepper he had toted in.

Clay's expression brightens again when he sees it. "Thanks, Geoff."

"Why can't you be addicted to coffee like normal people?" Geoff teases him.

Clay unscrews the top and sucks down a third of it before responding with, "Don't know. Never have liked the stuff, I guess."

Geoff rolls his eyes and grins. "Wish I had that problem."

"They don't stock it in the machines here…" he shrugs, eyeing the bottle. "No idea why, lots of guys would buy it." He glances up toward Geoff. "Anyway, I owe you for smuggling these in for me."

"Nah, I'll just bill your dad," he says lightheartedly.

Clay grins smugly. "Do it!"

Geoff smiles. "I'm kidding. Don't worry about it."

"So what's going on?"

"I finally got a hold of your landlord. He's going to testify that you turned your rent in late. He'll be here tomorrow afternoon. Got a copy of the receipt which has the date and time, and the associated late fees…" Geoff pauses and glances at him quizzically, "They charge you late fees _by the hour_ for not turning it in before midnight?"

He rolls his eyes and nods.

"And I thought we lawyers were bad about adding fees," he says lightly. "Well, I guess there's one advantage of getting charged up the ass by your landlord… You couldn't have gone to State College, raped and murdered Holly, and made it back in time to pay your late fees."

His eyes widen. "Can't believe I forgot about that. But, it's all true… Can't convict me when I wasn't there." He smiles contentedly. "That's it! Geoff, you're a genius!"

Geoff holds up his hand. "Not so fast… That's good evidence, but it's not enough. Motive still points to you. Dunhurst can knock this down on cross-examination."

"But…?" Clay eyes him with confusion.

"Trust me."

"So…now what?"

Geoff rests his elbows against the table and sighs. "Clay, you know what you need to do…"

He sinks back in his chair and sulks, his eyes drifting no higher than the surface of the table.

After a few minutes pass with no further response from his client, Geoff gets up from the table. "I'm not going to keep pressuring you. I respect how you feel and wish it didn't have to come to this… But there's only one way out of this mess." With that, he turns and heads for the door. "Good night, Clayton. I'll see you tomorrow."

_**x x**_

Olivia stirs awake, her eyes opening slowly until the motel room ceiling comes into view.

It's one of those ugly popcorn ceilings with wooden trim around the borders. The air conditioning unit makes a low hum with a slight rattling sound.

Whatever had passed through her system left her feeling groggy and weak.

Upon arriving at her motel room, the nausea hit hard. Elliot helps her to the bathroom, and afterward to her bed.

She rolls over onto her side, and the washrag he had placed on her forehead moments before leaving slips onto the pillow beside her.

The bathroom light is on, but the rest of the hotel room is dark. She lifts her head to check the time.

Almost 8:30. She's been asleep for a few hours.

As she's trying to re-orient herself to her surroundings, there's a knock at the door.

She gets out of bed slowly and goes to answer it. Opening it, she finds Elliot standing there. He's still wearing his suit for court. His tie is off and the top two buttons are undone. Judging from his slightly disheveled appearance, it looks like he might have caught a cat nap as well.

"Hey Liv… Just checking on ya," he says.

"I'm a little better," she smiles back, leaning against the door frame for support. "Maybe it was the heat."

"Do you feel like getting something to eat? Thought I'd skip the sushi until you're up for it, and grab a BLT at that deli two blocks away. There's probably something on the menu you can eat."

She yawns. "Thanks… But I think I'm going to stay put."

"I could bring you back something?"

"I'm not really that hungry."

"You said that at lunch too. Is your stomach still bothering you?"

She rolls her eyes and nods.

"You have to eat something, Liv…"

"I'm fine."

She hadn't noticed that he kept one hand behind his back until he brings it forward, presenting her with a can of Canada Dry and two packets of saltines sitting on top of the lid. "This should help for the time being," he offers. The slight smug grin appears, implying that he knew this would be all she'd accept.

She eyes the can and rolls her eyes at his insistence, but accepts it. "Thanks."

"Promise me you'll eat some toast or something before court tomorrow?"

"Only if you promise not to nag me about it repeatedly," she teases.

He grabs the door frame and leans in just inches from her. "Someone has to," he fires back with a smirk. Then he turns to head down the hall for the exit. "Good night, Liv."

She grins, starting to close the door. "Good night, El."

_**x x**_

The next morning, she awakens. The empty soda can and cellophane wrappers lay on the night stand.

After a long night's sleep, she definitely feels better.

She finds the TV remote, hits the power button, then gets out of bed and begins the process of getting ready for court.

"…_The trial is underway for the man charged in the rape and murder of State College student, Holly Morrison. Holly's father, Ernest Morrison had this to reply..."_

_The image on the screen is Holly's high school graduation picture with her parents and younger sister standing beside her._

_Then, a tearful Mr. Morrison appears on the screen. He's outside the courthouse with family standing beside him and reporters all around. "We love her and miss her terribly. That man…never really knew my daughter. If he did, he never would have done such a horrible thing! Oh God… My little girl!" he stops, unable to speak for a moment. He's visibly shaken, anger mixed with grief in his tear-filled eyes. "That man…Clayton Oldbridge doesn't deserve to live for what he did to her! All I ask of the courts i-is justice for Holly! H-her mother and I want justice…" _

_The news anchor appears next. "A grim day in the Midwest yesterday as over 40 tornadoes were reported in Missouri, Western Kentucky and Illinois..." _

_The TV image changes from the newsroom, to the aftermath of the storms. Pictures of towns where a large swath of damage could be shown. Houses and businesses having various stages of wind damage. The damages range from just minor exterior or roof damage, to most of the building or house destroyed, to nothing left but a pile of metal, insulation and sheet rock. Nearby trees devoid of leaves. Flooded streets. Deserted, damaged cars. People walking around in a state of shock and disorientation as they discover their homes and towns destroyed. Scene after sobering scene appears, the final image showing a man picking up a few pieces of aluminum siding and hurling it over onto a large heap pile in his driveway._

_A news reporter on the scene walks through one of the damaged suburbs. "These violent twisters continued into the night. Many residents are just now waking up to the devastation, or are returning from shelters to find their homes or businesses destroyed. The storms left 14 dead, dozens injured—some critically, and that death toll could rise. Seven adults and two children are still missing. Several counties in Illinois and Missouri are without power. A few roads are still closed, so you may want to check first before venturing into any of these storm-damaged areas. If you want to help the storm victims, you can find more information on our website or contact your local Red Cross. Back to you in the newsroom, Jill."_

"_Thanks Jason. Unfortunately, according to our severe weather experts, the massive system is still moving its way east. Parts of the Midwest are still in the path of these storms, along with the Ohio Valley. If you're in these areas, please keep a close watch on the weather. News 7 promises to bring you up-to-date reports as they become available. As we saw yesterday and many times in the past, conditions can worsen rapidly." _

"_More to come on your morning news. Stay tuned…" _

_**x x x**_

Olivia and Elliot enter the courthouse just before 9am. The defense has six witnesses to call. It appears that they may get to closing arguments by noon, or shortly thereafter.

Although after the first witness, the judge receives a note at the bench and calls a morning recess.

Olivia wanders out of the courtroom, taking the time to stretch her legs and get a cup of water from a water cooler in the hallway.

She felt fine up until court was back in session. Then, the nausea returned.

Lots of people packed into one courtroom made the room instantly warmer and the air more stagnant.

The two pieces of toast and fruit she ate that morning were threatening to come back up, and she wondered how long she'd be able to sit there without having to leave the court room.

So she's glad for the unexpected break.

The symptoms fluctuate from almost tolerable to bothersome. Standing up and moving around seems to help for the time being.

Elliot tells her he's going in search of some decent coffee, Kirk is talking to a reporter and Geoff says he has an errand to run.

She sips the water, wandering away from the court visitors and reporters for some space.

"Excuse me…Detective Benson?"

Olivia turns to find one of the court officers standing by. "Yes?"

"Clayton Oldbridge is asking to speak with you. His attorney isn't around…but he says it's urgent."

_**x x**_

**TBC…**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N… As is my usual routine, brief appearance from LOCI (I do the same for LOCI stories and SVU appearances). Unlike in Storm Surge, this part is probably the extent of LOCI for this story. Maybe one or two references in later chapters, as it pertains. **

**Quick note on restraints (handcuffs, leg irons, etc…). Some of this may be obvious, but just in case. Restraints can differ based on setting or offense (obviously). For this scene, assume that Clay, and others being detained in a holding cell, are ****only**** handcuffed in the front. In other words, too much restraint is overkill and the holding cell already counts as a form of restraint.**

******Caution about content. This will start to make sense in a few chapters. **

******As always, I love reviews!**

_**x**_

The court officer escorts Olivia to the holding cell where Clayton Oldbridge is being detained.

They pass a security check point, then head down a long, narrow corridor that leads to lock-up.

Nothing but gray walls and white-tiled floors along the way, which is a dreary contrast to the expansive marble and ornate décor throughout the rest of the courthouse building.

They turn the corner and enter the room where the detainees remain when they're not in court.

There's one other male prisoner in there with Clay. He's an older man who is standing near the front of the holding cell facing out, maintaining a blank stare.

Clay is sitting on the bench in the far back with his head lowered.

Before his arrest, Clay was contracted through Hudson University's computing and information technology department. He was hired to update the university's networking system.

Clay is 24 years old, with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. He's 6'2" and slender with a solid build. He has a much older, hardened appearance for his age—almost as if he'd been sent to military schools all his life but the discipline never stuck.

At the moment, he looks nothing like the man she arrested. When he lifts his head, his once striking royal blue eyes are washed-out and gray.

He looks weak, pale, almost sickly…

_Ironically, this is about how she feels. _

"Are you _sure_ you don't want your attorney present?" Olivia offers, as she approaches the bench and sits down beside him.

He shakes his head vacantly.

After no further response from Clay, she prompts him gently. "The court officer said you wanted to see me. What's this about?"

Without lifting his head, he answers, "I know what _you think_ I did… But I did not rape or stab…_anyone!_"

Olivia takes a deep breath, wondering if this is going to be a repeat of their meeting at Sheldon Arc. "Do you have any information about who might have?"

He glances over where she sits, but still avoids eye contact. "I did talk to someone else about the girls. My lawyer thinks it might be worth mentioning…"

"If it has any bearing on the case, I need to know. And I need _the truth._"

He doesn't respond.

"If you didn't rape or kill anyone, Clay, then you don't belong here!" she asserts.

The questions were still piling up. The fact that they are this far into the trial and she's suddenly having doubts is making her uncomfortable.

The defense's position is _yes,_ Clay has shown aggression toward those girls prior to their deaths.

But he did not, and would not, commit rape or murder.

In Geoff's opening remarks, he mentions that Clay witnessed his father hitting his mother and his younger brother, while he was growing up.

Clay grew up believing that aggression was perfectly acceptable.

And he wasn't punished.

Not for the times he lashed out at his brother.

Not even when his high school suspended him for bullying and threatening another classmate.

Geoff, Clay and Clay's therapist seem to think that the therapy is working on controlling his aggression.

After digesting her words for a minute, he glances toward her humbly. "D-do you think I'm a killer?"

"I don't know…" she says, sighing. "I think there's more to you than people realize. I think you're ashamed of what you've done in the past, but people can change."

"Thanks," he mutters quietly.

"Why don't you tell me why you asked me here?"

Clay takes a deep breath and begins his story. "A few months back, I went to McGill's for a drink. Some guy comes in. We're both just sitting at the bar watching the Giants game. Not really saying much to each other except, 'pass the popcorn.' After a while, we start talking. He tells me his girlfriend just dumped him. Seemed pretty depressed about it at the time, so I tried to cheer him up. I wound up telling him about the girls and about the trouble I was in for assaulting them. Hell, I don't know what I was thinking at the time… But he could have read about it in the paper."

Olivia nods.

"Later on, while I'm still at the bar, I start feeling pretty sick. Only had a couple beers so I thought I was coming down with the flu or something. I decide to go home and sleep it off. I leave the bar and head for the subway. Nausea is still hitting me pretty hard and I'm just trying to get home. I'm in the subway for maybe a couple minutes, and I see that guy again. He was still at the bar when I left, so he must have followed me. Around that time, I'm starting to sweat. Getting really, really sick. Feeling dizzy. Thought I was going to pass out right there on the subway platform. He says something like, _'Don't worry, man, I'll get some help…'_ After that, I must have blacked out."

After a prolonged pause with nothing further from Clay, she prompts him. "What else can you remember?"

"I-I woke up in….someone's apartment. Th-that same man is there. He's standing over me. And I'm lying on th-the floor… My head is spinning. M-my clothes are torn up—like someone had tried to cut them off me….and I couldn't move. I couldn't lift my head. I felt like…_dead weight_… Like I was drugged." Clay pauses, shaking his head, eyes showing panic. "_I-if I could,_ I—I would have gotten the hell out of there…" he swallows against the knot in his throat. "That guy's a fuckin' sick freak!" He leans over and covers his face with his hands.

She scoots closer to him. "Clay… What happened?"

When he fails to look up, she puts a hand on his shoulder supportively.

Clay lifts his head, glaring at the other detainee. He abruptly bolts up from the bench and takes off after him. "The hell, you looking at, old guy! You laughing? You better not fucking laugh!"

"I'm not even looking at you, you punk!" the man fires back irritably.

Clay pins the older man against the bars, using his arms and his body weight.

"Clay, stop!" Olivia is already up off the bench, trying to separate the two men.

"Hey! What th' hell… GUARD! GUARD!" the older man yells out.

Clay fists the man's collar in his hands and throws him back against the bars once more.

He releases him slightly and begins throwing punches. His swings are awkward and the handcuffs restrict him, but it doesn't seem to be slowing him down at all.

The detainee fights back the best he can, catching Clay in the lip at least once. But Clay has more upper body strength. He nails the man in the stomach, before planting one more at his jaw.

"CLAYTON! CLAYTON!" one of the security guards yells as he approaches the containment area, opens the door and comes in to assist.

Olivia and the security guard manage to separate the two, Olivia forcefully restraining Clay from behind, although he continues to fight them. "Clay…stop! That's enough! Clay!"

Another guard approaches and takes the older man out of the holding cell, while the first responding guard assists Olivia.

"Clayton, that's enough!" the guard scolds.

Olivia and the guard lower Clay toward the floor in a sitting position. They remove his handcuffs, reposition his arms in the back, and re-cuff him. Olivia gets behind him to restrain his arms and upper body, preventing him from getting back up.

He huffs and puffs, trying to catch his breath. A slight trickle of blood appears below his lip where the other detainee hit him.

Then, he lowers his head and appears to withdraw.

Her eyes drift from Clay to the guard briefly. "Could you leave us alone for a bit?"

He nods. "I'll be right out here."

Olivia leans in closer, compassion in her tone, "Clay, what happened to you that night?"

His eyes glisten with tears, his body begins to shake restlessly and his lower lip quivers as he bites back the pending emotions. "Nothing! J-just leave me alone!"

She waits, giving him a minute to calm down. When she speaks to him again, she maintains a firm, nurturing tone. "I'm not here to judge you…and I'm not going anywhere. Tell me what happened when you discovered you were at the man's apartment."

His muscles abruptly clench. She prepares herself in case he decides to get up, or use whatever he can to fight her again.

"If this man hurt you in any way, I want him punished. I want him arrested so he can't hurt you or anyone else, ever again…." She offers one of her hands to his cuffed hand. "I'm on your side, Clay."

He hesitates at first, then opens his hand and accepts hers. Her warmth and nurturing causes something to inside him to break. He leans into her for support, starting to cry.

"Clay, what happened?"

His face flushes with anger. "That fucking…_freak!_ I'm _NOT_ a f-fag!"

He's not giving specifics and he's still visibly shaken. She lets him take his time.

His voice quivers as he replies, "I c-couldn't move…couldn't move… He cut me…scratched me… Called me a baby and said I didn't n-need those….whores. Those pussies..."

"Where did he cut and scratch you?"

"My legs…my ass….my back… _That freak! I'll fucking kill him!_"

"What else happened?"

"He f-forced himself…" Clay cries and tenses his body.

She sighs, realizing what he doesn't want to say. "He forced himself on you…sexually."

"Yes! _I'm gonna kill him!_"

"What else can you remember?"

"He cut me whenever I'd flinch… I kept passing out. I woke up once and he was gone. Just got the hell out and went home. Called my supervisor and said I had the flu and couldn't get any work done. I didn't go anywhere for days."

"How long did he keep you?"

He shrugs. "I don't know… About two days, I'd guess."

She already knows the answer, but she asks anyway. "Did you report this to anyone?"

He sniffles and shakes his head.

"How much does this man know about Holly, Jayne and Alicia?"

"I told him things at the bar that you'd tell a close friend. I didn't think…any of this…would happen." His voice still teary and broken.

"Did he contact you after this? Did he make any threats?"

He nods, "Told me to st-stay away from the girls…or else."

"Did you tell someone you were receiving threats?"

He shakes his head angrily. "I was already up to my neck in trouble with the cops and the girls wanted nothing to do with me. Who the fuck would believe me?" He continues to shake.

"Shhh… It's okay, it's okay… I believe you."

"_He did this! He hurt them to get back at me!"_ Clay admits tearfully. He sinks against her and sobs heavily.

Her eyes—now bearing a light sheen of tears—gaze around at the holding cell jadedly.

_**x**_

Moments later, she has a description of the individual.

The name the man used at the bar was 'Brock.'

Brock is about six feet tall, large build, stocky, with medium brown hair and brown eyes. Age is approximated at early to mid 40s. He has anywhere from seven to ten tattoos on his body; one resembling a cobra or some kind of snake on his right arm. There's another on his neck that resembles the capital letter L with a word or two written below it. He couldn't recall the others. There's a birthmark or mole shaped like a crescent under Brock's left eye.

Clay says he can't remember where this apartment was—only that it was on the lower east side. He reports blacking out and waking up a few times during the attack. When he awoke and discovered that Brock wasn't there, he managed to remove duct tape from his arms and legs, and escape. The room had green carpet, one light fixture and white speckled wallpaper that is peeling. Said the place smelled like gasoline at times and was very musty. Since the incident, the perpetrator has contacted Clay a few times a week, until Clay was arrested and charged with 4 counts of murder. He reports having some deep scratches near his groin area, some on his back and thighs, which healed with first aid treatment and time. He opted against seeking medical help or going to the police, worried that he would be laughed at or refused treatment on account of his criminal record.

According to Clay, he was warned against going to see the girls.

Supposing this guy 'Brock' has a grievance against Clay and a history of sexually deviant behavior, he could have raped and murdered those women. Could be a bisexual predator who is more inclined to rape for power or punishment. So there's not a specific preference toward men or women. She couldn't think of any outstanding cases, but she'd have to search the NYPD database.

There's still Clay's DNA at the crime scene and his hunting knife as the murder weapon. But if this guy has enough information on Clay, he could have planted it. The two men are close in height and size. At night, and at a distance, someone could have mistaken Brock for Clay.

She has no physical proof that any of this happened other than Clay's story. Truthfully, there were signs of him reliving the abuse. There was the anger, the embarrassment, and hence his reluctance to admit what happened. He would tense his body as he recounted the details of that night. When he felt he could trust her, he sought comfort.

In her experience, Clay's behavior was no act.

_**x**_

Moments later, Olivia exits the holding cell area.

She attempts a call to Geoff, but he doesn't answer. Obviously, this is the story he wants her to know about.

This guy 'Brock' knows everything about the charges, the restraining order, the girls, and Clay's past.

While she's still trying to sort everything out, her cell phone rings.

She glances down at the display. It's not a call she's expecting, but she smiles and takes it.

"Hi, Alex…long time no see," she warmly greets her colleague and friend, Alexandra Eames. With their hectic schedules, they don't always find the time to catch up.

"Hey, Liv. Yeah, I was just thinking the same. Wondered if you wanted to grab lunch today?"

"Sounds great, but unfortunately, I'm not in New York."

"Where are—?" Alex begins, then pauses as she remembers. "Oh wait…you're in Pennsylvania. I forgot that case was going to trial. Saw that in the news and it must have slipped my mind."

"That's okay. If I didn't have a phone with about a dozen reminders, I wouldn't know where the hell I was supposed to be either."

Alex chuckles. "Yeah, I know that problem. So how's the trial going?"

"Well…" she sighs, her eyes darting around as an idea occurs to her. "It's kind of taking an interesting turn…ummm… Hey, are you at Major Case right now, by any chance?"

"Yep, slow morning. Bobby and I wrapped up a case yesterday and we're just about to start catching up on our fives."

"Is the database up?"

"No, but it can be." Alex drags the laptop across her desk so it's closer to her. "What do you need?"

"I need you to do a search and unfortunately, I haven't got much. I've got a first name that is probably an alias, a physical description, a couple tattoos and a mole or a birthmark. Maybe you can help me narrow it down?"

"Like I said, slow morning. Fire away."

Olivia finds a quiet corner and quickly brings her up to speed on Clay, Geoff and the information she's just received.

"Wow… Yeah, you've got a case on your hands," Alex remarks as Olivia finishes. "So why hasn't Clay filed a report on his attacker?"

"He would rather forget about it. Decided not to go to the police because he thought no one would listen to him," she answers disheartened.

"Got a physical description?"

Olivia relays the information Clay gave her.

"I'll see what I can dig up."

"Thanks, I really do appreciate it."

"No problem."

They're both quiet for a couple minutes, as Alex looks into the database. Olivia hears clicking in the background.

"So, uh…._how's Stabler?_ You two still going hot and heavy?" Alex teases, being generally aware of the tension between them and attempting to keep things light.

Alex and Olivia have sometimes let their conversations about their respective partners run amok over drinks. Just girl talk. They keep it light, and it gives them the chance to confide in someone.

"Ha! Yeah, right," Olivia responds chuckling. "We're okay one minute, ready to kill each other the next."

"_Must be true love…"_ she quips under her breath.

"And how's your lover boy?" Olivia teases back.

Alex smirks. "Well… We _did_ just split a breakfast sandwich and we're sharing a file from the ME's office…"

"How romantic," Olivia quips.

Alex grins and mumbles. "Not _exactly_ what I had in mind."

"I'll bet," Olivia chuckles. "You'll have to fill me in later."

"Right. So tell me about this defense attorney… Umm…_Geoff?"_

"Oh, he's a sweetheart…"

"A sweetheart…_and_ a _defense attorney…? _How is that even possible?_" _Alex quips.

She smiles. "I meant….he's not like 'most.' He has a background in criminal psychology and loves to talk about human behavior—sort of reminds me of your other half. I had dinner with him the night we went to meet with Clay at Sheldon Arc. He's a great guy."

"Is he attractive?"

"Yeah, I'd say so."

"And on a scale of one to ten…how jealous is Elliot right now?" Alex teases.

She smirks at the question. "Not at all."

"Yeah…_right_!"

"No, Geoff's just a friend. Elliot's just…" she sighs, _"…Elliot_."

"In other words… Pittsburgh's too far and Elliot's too far under your skin?"

Olivia grins. "I guess that about covers it."

"Glad I could clear that up."

They're quiet again, as Alex resumes the research. A moment later, she gasps.

"What?"

"Hold on a second… I think I might have something…" She starts typing again.

Olivia waits, but then begins to fidget nervously. Her stomach resuming its latest state of discomfort.

She spends a few more minutes verifying some information, then she's back on the line. "Olivia… Looks like you've got a hit on the L-shaped/star tattoo and the birthmark. The guy's name is James Ruesheirs," she says, and then spells out the last name for Olivia who scribbles it on a pad of paper. "Bobby and I both remember hearing something about this guy. Might have gone through Major Case but it never crossed our desks. Suspect's date of birth, 7/13/1967. No known address for the past 9 years. Prior to that, he's been charged with misdemeanor assault and served 6 months in Rikers. That's why his prints are in the system. They have his DNA at a crime scene for 3 homicides in Chelsea back in 2009. There are a couple more warrants, one in the Bronx and another in Long Island. Each male victim identified him by the tattoo and a crescent-shaped mole, which he sometimes covers up. Unfortunately, the victims have both been reported missing and nothing's turned up. Ruesheirs is a possible suspect in over 20 homicides-many in which a rape was also committed. He kills, then finds a hideout and probably changes his appearance. He seems to target straight men. Attacks on women seem to be purely for revenge or humiliation…"

"If this is the guy, why wouldn't he have killed Clay when he had the chance?"

"Good question."

"The police were already looking at Clay because of his recent arrest…" Olivia notes aloud.

"Right."

"So why target him at all if James wants to stay under the radar?" she poses confused.

"Maybe he thought Clay wouldn't go to the cops?" Alex supposes.

"And he was right,_"_ Olivia solemnly responds. She wonders how much of this mess Clay could have avoided if he had come to the police and reported the assault.

Alex reads a little further, then adds, "He uses Oxycodone and various mind-altering drugs… So, he could have drugged Clay's drink when he was at the bar, and when he got sick James brought him back to his apartment. When Clay escapes and attempts to cut off contact, James rapes and murders the girls, thinking that setting Clay up for the crime would be one way of getting back at him for leav—" Alex suddenly gasps and jumps.

"What?"

"Oh, sorry… Bobby just startled me. He's reading over my shoulder."

"He's somewhere close to this trial…" Bobby speculates aloud, tapping the top of her laptop screen for emphasis. "Probably inside that courthouse."

"Did you hear that, Liv?" Alex asks, concerning Bobby's suspicions.

"Yeah," she replies. "But why not move on to someone else? Why here?"

"He's keeping an eye on Clay," Alex suggests with a sigh.

"Right," Bobby agrees, leaning further over Alex's shoulder as he speaks. "If Clay's released or identifies James, he's as good as dead. James refuses to be caught. If I remember correctly…" Bobby pauses, "Eames, scroll up… No, one more… Okay...here it is. He's also wanted in connection with the two cop killings in 2005. They were shot at close range while trying to find the two exchange students whose bodies were dumped in a garage in South Orange. They got too close. This guy set a trap. You and Stabler had better watch your backs and keep a guard on Clay until you have James in custody," he concludes.

"Okay," she agrees. Fortunately, he's in lock-up. Probably the safest place for him until they figure out what they're going to do.

Alex speaks up. "Liv, I'll send you this information along with some of his earlier mug shots and more recent sketches. He changes his appearance…but this is what we've got."

"Great, thanks! Oh…and could you do me a favor…?"

"Get a couple of mug shots over to McGill's to see if the bartender recognizes Clay or James, and remembers anything from that night…?" Alex replies, anticipating her question. "Yep, will do. I'll let you know what I find out. Call me if you need anything. And be careful."

"I will. Thanks so much." She ends the call, then makes another attempt to call Geoff. Again, it goes to voicemail.

Two messages arrive on her phone from Alex. The first is the text document containing James' background. The photos are in the second message. It takes a little time to load, but she's got them. She scans the attachments for a few minutes, then closes the message.

She looks everywhere for Geoff, eventually heading outside the courthouse to see if he's anywhere close by.

Her eyes hop around from person to person nervously, remembering Detective Goren's hunch…

'_He's somewhere close to this trial. Probably inside that courthouse.' _

**x x x**

**TBC…**

**A/N Yes, by the way, Eames ships E/O too ;) **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N—Thanks again to my wonderful reviewers (guests and regulars!) This one got a little delayed so I could finish up another chapter. Still trying to aim toward regular updates. This is a fun story to work on anyway! **

**By now, you've figured out there's an intricate plot in the works. This is just one of those wild chapters where one spark sets off a chain of events and everybody sees things a little differently. Don't worry, there's still plenty more to tell. This is still early (pre-chapter 1). **

_**x x**_

Court is due to reconvene at ten-thirty. According to Judge Carter, they plan to resume the defense's witnesses, then break for lunch at noon.

At ten minutes till court's in session, Elliot wanders back inside the doors of the court house with a cup of coffee in hand. While it's too damn hot for coffee, he needs something to wake the hell up.

Didn't sleep very well last night. Not the best motel room bed, and the short nap he took after court yesterday left him wide awake for most of the night, and groggy during court.

Then again, he didn't get much sleep the night before that, _either._

_Not that he objects to the reason why,_ he recalls, smiling to himself.

He and Olivia played a few games of pool. They talked, joked, and laughed as if nothing had ever been screwed up between them.

And he loved every minute of it.

It's the way things _should_ be.

He misses the nights they would go to happy hour with Munch and Fin, start up a game of pool and the two of them would stay until the bar closed.

He may have claimed to be 'avoiding diaper duty,' but in all honestly, he just lost track of time.

They got each other. He's the longest relationship she's ever had with a man. And aside from Kathy, she's his longest relationship with a woman.

They're the best of friends. They're great together as partners.

They've been through the worst kinds of cases. _Richard White. Victor Gitano._

They've survived all kinds of heat from the NYPD. From suspensions and interrogations from the brass, to that uncomfortable psych evaluation that Cragen had them take.

They'd been through all kinds of family emergencies. His separation and later his divorce. The birth of Eli. and the accident before it that almost killed Kathy, Eli and Olivia.

There was Olivia's mother's death. Kathleen's arrest and diagnosis. Simon being accused of rape.

Things were always a little complicated between them, but they got by.

Until recently…

_So, why the hell had things gotten so out of control?_

He hopes it isn't too late to make things right again.

He flashes his ID to the guards, puts his gun in the tray and strolls through the security check point.

Retrieving his belongings a moment later, he continues on toward the court room.

In just a few hours this case will be over and they can take the suspect back to New York. He can't wait to get home.

Once again, justice is served.

Clayton Oldbridge will get what he deserves for attacking those women.

For some reason, Olivia's got one of her hunches that something isn't right with this case.

He trusts his partner, of course. Just doesn't happen to agree with her opinion.

Oldbridge is guilty. No question.

He definitely doesn't trust that defense attorney. Something about that guy just rubs him the wrong way.

Geoff obviously has a thing for Liv… He doesn't like it, of course, but he gets it.

And he certainly doesn't want him to pull some stupid stunt for the sake of his own career, and drag her down with him.

Geoff can screw up all he wants and get himself disbarred, for all he cares.

_But he's not messing with Olivia's job... Not if he can help it._

All it takes is one snooping media prick, and Olivia's name gets dragged through the mud along with this jackass attorney.

He's seen it happen before.

Olivia's gorgeous. Lots of guys are interested in her. But either they don't get her, or they don't see that her job is very important to her.

He still remembers that creep she dated at The Ledger... _The guy was a total jerk._

So he'll have to keep a close eye on this guy, McCray.

Elliot's still en route for the court room when he spots the defense attorney.

_Well, speak of the devil…_

Geoff had just entered through the security gates—briefcase in one hand, cell phone in the other. He appears distracted by something on his phone.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Geoff sees Olivia. She's a short distance from the door to the courtroom when she sees him as well, and rushes toward him. There's a sense of concern and urgency in her.

Lots of courthouse visitors, workers and media people roam through the large marble corridor where they gather. The area is a little packed at the moment. Six different courtrooms and four judges offices are all in the immediate vicinity.

Olivia reaches out with her hand, takes him by the arm, and guides him out of the way of the mass of people who are either loitering about or else trying to get through.

That concern in Olivia's eyes has him perplexed… _Something's up._

Elliot walks a few paces closer to see what's going on.

There's still about thirty feet between them, and his view of Olivia is partially blocked by McCray, who has his back to Elliot. About a dozen or so courthouse visitors and reporters stand between himself and the two of them. He can't get any closer, and it's probably not worth the effort to work his way through this mob. But he can see her face and most of her profile.

He watches them. Olivia's hands are on Geoff's arms, just below his shoulders. There's that intense, slightly worried, brown-eyed glare, with slightly arched eyebrows which he knows her all too well. Whatever she's saying is very important. Probably confidential too, because her eyes keep glancing about to make sure none of the reporters within range are trying to pick up on their conversation.

_Already caught some reporter's attention… _Elliot notes, as he eyes the man's intent focus on Olivia.

The reporter arches his back to see around another court visitor, hoping to lip read and catch part of their conversation.

Olivia's slight hair flip and subtle glance in the reporter's direction confirms that she's aware of him.

Another minute of her explanation and then she's finished. After that, there's some dialogue between her and McCray.

She listens and nods, the concern he initially saw in her eyes is starting to lift. She even smiles.

Then suddenly, _McCray leans in and kisses her._

He settles back a moment later, and Elliot can see her face again.

Her wide-eyed expression shows that she hadn't expected it.

Elliot's face flushes with anger.

_What the hell is Geoff thinking?_

Nothing he could detect in her body language would warrant such a response.

It really didn't matter _why_ he did it—the case is drawing a media circus. Cameras everywhere. Geoff's and Olivia's names and pictures are in the paper and on the news. Everyone's watching this case.

He hates this guy!_ Does he have any respect for her at all? _

_No wonder this creep has been under watch by his firm. _

He'd love to walk up to them and let this guy have it. But instead he hangs back and watches to see what Olivia will do.

She's surprised, but she brushes it off. That all-business expression of hers is back. Something else is more pressing. She checks her phone, says a little more to him then tugs on his sleeve, intending for him to follow her.

As they start to leave, they see Judge Carter walking in the direction of his office. They catch his attention, and there's a short conversation between the three of them. The judge nods and then continues on. Olivia and McCray head for the other end of the hallway. The only thing down at that end is lock-up, so they must be headed there.

At the security check-point, they see Dunhurst entering the courthouse. Olivia talks to a security guard while McCray falls back and says something to Dunhurst. Olivia, McCray and the guard head toward lock-up. Dunhurst stops for a minute, glances toward Judge Carter's office and then moves hurriedly in that direction. He knocks on the judge's door, enters, and closes the door behind him.

Elliot wanders toward the door of Judge Carter's office. Upon checking the door handle, he sees that it's locked. He doesn't intend to go inside anyway, but he decides to wait for Dunhurst to come out.

His coffee is still too hot, but he sips it as he waits, finishing it before too long.

Carter's law clerk slips in and out of the Judge's office quickly and speaks to one of the court officers, leaving the door propped open for a short time. Elliot can see Judge Carter and Dunhurst inside Carter's office, talking. Dunhurst doesn't look too happy.

After mentioning something to a court officer, the law clerk steps back inside and the door is once again closed.

_What in the hell is going on?_

After a few more minutes pass, he considers going to find Olivia or calling her cell phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the two of them returning from lock-up. He starts toward them, but they are headed toward one of the clerk's offices and he loses sight of them in the crowd.

Then suddenly, Dunhurst reappears.

"Oh… Hey Elliot," he greets.

"What's going on? Something happen with the case?"

"Defense is asking for a continuance," he responds, rolling his eyes distastefully.

"What's that about?" Elliot asks, as Dunhurst starts to walk away.

He shakes his head. "Oh, I don't know… The usual bullshit delay tactics, if you ask me. He's got nothing. Apparently, Judge Carter didn't agree."

"_What delay tactics?"_

"They should just wait for appeals to start this crap," he argues, seeming to not have heard Elliot's last question. He continues on, walking hurriedly in the opposite direction. "Sorry, I've got to go track down the DA. Catch you later."

Elliot releases an exasperated sigh and moves quickly toward the door to lock-up.

_**x x**_

_**~Moments ago…~**_

Geoff wanders through the security gate, glancing over a text from Brian about another one of his cases.

_Great_, he mutters to himself sarcastically, as he picks up his belongings and continues through the check point. _CEO Padwick just rejected another plea… Looks like this steaming pile of bullshit is going to trial._

He hates criminal negligence cases.

Before these new managing partners took over, half of his cases didn't involve defending some slimy CEO's bank account.

Sure, criminal offenders didn't deserve leniency.

But neither does the head of some medical supply company who tried to cut corners to save profits, and the hell with the 17 who lost their lives to blood poisoning.

In his experience, even serial killers didn't lie as much. People care more about money than their freedom, apparently.

Geoff gazes up from his message just in time to see Olivia walking briskly toward him. His frown instantly turns into a smile.

_The lovely, Detective Benson…_

He looked into her background just before they met. Even got the chance to have dinner with her and get to know her better. She's an incredible person in every possible way. He's very impressed by her.

She was his last hope toward getting Clay to open up—and not a slim hope, at that. She's built quite a reputation in her line of work.

He knows his client is innocent. He also knows Clay was sexually assaulted and continually harassed by someone named Brock. But Clay refuses to give much detail beyond that. So he's had very little to work with.

It's entirely up to Clay to disclose what he chooses and report it to the police.

All he can do is keep encouraging him to talk to someone.

"Hey, Olivia," Geoff greets her. "Sorry…I did get your messages, but I was headed back here anyw—"

"Geoff! We need to talk!" She abruptly takes him by the arm and pulls him out of the stream of foot traffic. She quickly fills him in on her interaction with Clay and what she just learned from the Major Case detectives.

She finishes, and Geoff tries to process the information he's just received. He stands there shaking his head. "I wanted him to tell you when we were at Sheldon Arc. I guess I should be relieved that he trusted me enough to admit that he was attacked _at all_. I thought we had a pretty good rapport. All he does when I ask him about it is get angry." There's relief and gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you, Olivia. How'd you do it?"

She smiles. "It's my job, Geoff. I work with lots of victims who are too angry to talk."

"Wouldn't even talk to his therapist. He needed to get that off his chest. Anyway, I think you just saved the day." Still gazing at her appreciatively, he leans in and gives her a gentle peck. He'd love to kiss her on the mouth, but he decides her cheek is probably more appropriate. He doesn't want to offend her—just thank her.

Except his aim is off, and she's not exactly expecting him, so he catches the corner of her mouth instead.

She's surprised by his sudden public display. "Geoff…? What's that for?"

"Nothing… Just a thanks," he adds sincerely. Seeing that perplexed brown-eyed glare linger, he blushes. "I'm sorry…I hope I didn't—"

She shrugs it off. "No problem… We've got a lot on our plates right now. I want to show these pictures to Clay…" she says as retrieves her phone. "Major Case sent me some recent sketches of James…."

"Right… We need an ID." His eyes drift about, suddenly noticing the judge who is headed back toward his office. "Court's about to reconvene. We'd better catch Judge Carter first."

_**x x**_

Elliot shows his ID to two guards at lock-up, then makes his way to Clay's holding cell.

Clay is standing by the cell door, holding onto the bars. No one else is back here.

Olivia and Geoff had Clay's handcuffs removed for the time being. There's still much to be done before all of this is resolved.

_At last…things are looking up_, Clay thinks to himself. He's far too nervous to sit, so he remains there by the cell door, waiting for his attorney and the lady detective to return.

They said something about a signature or form…or something, and then disappeared. More legal crap. He didn't know what it was about. But they said they'd be back in a few minutes.

His expression changes from hope to resentment when he sees the male detective approach.

"Th' hell do you want?" Clay poses, sneering back at the cop bitterly.

Elliot walks all the way up to the bars, keeping his voice leveled. "I'd like to know what the hell you and your lawyer are trying to pull!"

"I didn't rape or kill any—"

"Yeah, you did!" Elliot charges angrily. "And now you're trying to screw with the system!"

"System's already screwed! I shouldn't be in here! Even your partner thinks so!"

"Leave _her_ out of this!"

"She's on…_my_ side," Clay responds smugly. "It's a shame she got stuck working with a prick like you! But hey, you're not my problem anymore!"

"_Wanna bet?_" Elliot takes a step closer. He grabs onto the bars and rattles them, intending to intimidate Clay. "You raped and murdered those girls! Everyone knows you did it!"

"My lawyer's going to get me out of this—"

"Your lawyer is a lying sack of shit who is only out to save his own ass! There's no way you're getting off for what you did!"

"Get out of my face!"

"_Or what? _ What are you going to do, tough guy?"

"Open this door and you'll find out pretty quickly!"

Elliot pokes a finger at him. "Maybe you and your lawyer can pull a stunt like this, here in this crappy little Pennsylvania suburb and get a few people to buy it. But if you think you're going to just sail through the New York courts…?" Elliot chuckles condescendingly. "Bullshit!"

"I'm done with this place! I'm done with _you_!"

"You're not done with anything! You're certainly not done with me. I'll make damn sure you pay for what you did to those girls!"

Clay grabs Elliot by the collar and pulls him hard against the bars. "I'll fucking end you!" Clay draws back his arm, preparing to punch him.

"Oh yeah? You're really going to punch a cop_?_ If you think you've got problems now, pal, you ain't seen sh—"

_One punch would be worth it, _Clay decides. His fist comes through the bar, connecting with Elliot's jaw. Elliot ducks, but Clay still has Elliot by the collar, preventing him from drawing back too much. The pain is sharp and he struggles not to let on that it hurt.

He reaches with both arms and grabs Clay by the collar of his orange jumpsuit. "You low life piece of shit! You're going to—"

Before he even realizes the door is open, he hears Olivia's angry voice erupt from behind him.

"ELLIOT! Let him go!"

Elliot releases Clay, then turns to face his partner. Directly behind her is Geoff and a security guard. "That punk just punched me!" he alleges, touching his jaw where Clay had struck him.

Olivia turns to the guard and Geoff. "If you'll excuse us…" She turns back to her partner. "I need a word with you, Detective Stabler."

Clay laughs spitefully, as Elliot follows her out.

They walk down the corridor that leads from the lock-up to the clerk's office, passing various courtrooms and judges offices, until they finally find an empty jury room. She motions for Elliot to come in, and then closes the door behind him.

"Clay punched me, Liv—"

"You provoked him!"

"He started into me, the second I got in there!"

"What the hell were you doing in there?"

"Trying to find out what the hell was going on! Dunhurst tells me there's some kind of defense bullshit story going on, and you and that jackass defense attorney had disappeared!"

"So you went in there to have it out with Clay…"

"_No, I didn't!"_

"Yes, _you DID!_" She shakes her head at him in disgust! "Dammit, Elliot, I'm sick and tired of this!"

"He's GUILTY! Low-life scum deserves to pay for what he did to those girls!"

"Will you stop?"

"No, _YOU_ stop! This IS about justice, Olivia, _isn't it?_ Isn't that what you used to care about? Th' hell happened to you? Whose side are you on anyway? You _used_ to be a damn good cop, not running off listening to a bunch of lies from a desperate defense attorney about to lose his job!"

"I've had about all I can take!"

"I'm trying to get justice for our victims and get criminals like that off the street!"

"No, you're antagonizing Clay to prove some kind of point, to show you're better than he is, and maybe to get back at me! But right now, I need you to shut up and listen for a min—"

"What the hell has gotten into—"

She steps into his face and raises her voice. "_I said…_SHUT UP!"

He huffs irritably, but doesn't speak.

She takes a few deep breathes, attempting to settle herself down before she continues. "There's more that you need to hear…" She spends the next few moments updating him on everything.

"So, now what?" Elliot asks unimpressed.

"We'll take Clay back to New York with us. We're going to leak to the press that they've made a settlement. When we get back to New York, there'll be a meeting with the chief of D's and the DA's office."

"Fine." Elliot says flatly, then turns and walks toward the door.

"So, is this the way it's going to be from now on?" she asks, following him.

One hand still on the door knob, he turns back toward her, his expression full of spite. "You're the lead on this case, I'm not. Cragen's not going to hear me out either. So yeah… I guess I'm just along for the ride!"

"You're not the least bit concerned?"

"About _what?_"

She cocks her head and looks at him disbelievingly.

"Just because Clay and his lawyer cook up some story about a sexual assault that Clay neglected to report, and _now_ he wants to use it to save his own ass? Well, Liv…since I don't have room to disagree without it costing me my job and my partner…then I don't have anything to say!"

"Elliot…"

"Why the hell do you care what I think? You stopped doing that a long time ago!" he fires back hurtfully.

She shakes her head, tears beginning to cloud her eyes.

"Just tell me when it's time to go." Elliot adds, shutting the door behind him.

She stands there, gazing at the closed door in disbelief.

Resting her head against it, she cries.

She hates where things stand.

She misses the times they'd work together when a case would evolve, much like this one has.

She misses the nights they'd both be up late, fixated on some part of it because neither of them could fall asleep if they tried.

But anytime Elliot doesn't agree, the job automatically becomes harder.

She can't have him attacking Clay when he's the only one who can identify this guy James. Clay is still very guarded about his attack.

So instead, she steps in and ends up fighting with Elliot.

Lately she's had to come to his defense so he doesn't get himself into more trouble and lose his badge.

But other times she has to step in and do her job, and the hell with his anger issues.

_She knows_ he cares, even if he won't say it.

She knows he would fight for Clay, if only he'd admit that he had some misconceptions about the case and let that go.

_If only_, he'd stop fighting her when he doesn't like an outcome.

She knows this attitude really isn't him. It's a weary, unsettled, maybe even burned-out version of the man she's known, adored and respected for years.

It takes her a few minutes to get herself calm and collected so she can head back out there. When she's ready, she opens the door and leaves.

Not really sure where to go, she wanders back toward lock-up.

She feels this growing emptiness inside of her, as her thoughts drift back to Elliot.

They've fought many, many times before. Somehow, this feels worse.

Gazing around at the stark walls and marble floor that lay in front of her, she suddenly wanted to leave this place. Just go somewhere and scream, cry, maybe curl up into a ball and wait for the ache inside of her to go away.

It won't, of course. The day he entered her life, he changed her.

Lost in a fog, she doesn't notice the security guard hurrying toward her, until he's just a few feet away. "Detective Benson…?"

"Yes?"

"It's your suspect, Clayton Oldbridge…"

"What is it?"

"Guard found him unconscious down in lock-up… He's dead."

**TBC…**


End file.
